Page 68 of Cat’s Guide To Romance

Sparkle and I have had several successful dinners all of which did not involve hostile cats. He’s spent the night at my place, and I’ve fallen asleep on his overly pillowed couch more than once. Sometimes we teleport somewhere new. Sometimes we do absolutely nothing.

And now he wants me to meet his family.

“Remember,” Sparkle says, squeezing my hand. “You promised to behave around Papa.”

“I remember.”

“That includes no threats, curses, setting him on fire, or teleporting him somewhere horrible.”

I sigh. “You take all the fun out of meeting parents.”

Sparkle’s eyes narrow, but his lips twitch. “You can glare.”

“I can work with that.”

He opens the door without knocking and calls for his mother. The house immediately erupts with noise. Feet pound against the floor, voices overlap somewhere deeper inside, and a small boy skids around the corner before stopping directly in front of us. Ferris.

His wide eyes travel from my boots all the way to my horns. I bend slightly when Ferris continues staring at my horns. “You can touch one if you want.”

His entire face lights up. He reaches carefully toward me and runs his fingertips over one horn before letting out a quiet, awed sound.

More of Sparkle’s siblings crowd into the hallway behind him. I’ve heard enough about them over the past few weeks that I can put names to some of the faces, though the twins make that considerably harder. They whisper to each other while openly staring at me until Sparkle’s ears flatten.

Sparkle’s mother appears before this can devolve any further, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she approaches. I straighten instinctively. This woman once ripped a magical pendant off her husband’s neck and threatened to kick him out of his own house. I respect her immensely.

“You must be Lucien.” Her gaze travels over me, lingering briefly on my horns and tail before she smiles.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sparkle makes a strangled sound beside me, but his mother laughs and pulls me into a hug before I can prepare myself. I carefully return it, suddenly very aware that I want this woman to like me.

“Welcome to our home.”

“Thank you.” I hold out the pie when she releases me. “I brought dessert.”

Her smile grows. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

Sparkle gives me a suspicious look, probably because I haven’t told him about the backup pastries waiting at my place, in case this one somehow proves insufficient.

Sparkle’s father stands near the dining room. His white ears are visible tonight. So is his tail. He doesn’t look particularly pleased to see me, and the feeling is mutual. His ears angle backward as his gaze travels over my horns, my tail, and finally Sparkle and my joined hands. I glare. He glares back. Sparkle squeezes my fingers hard enough to remind me of my promise. Right, right. Behave.

Dinner is chaos, but it’s a warm kind of chaos. Everyone talks over everyone else, dishes move constantly around the table, and Ferris manages to ask me at least a dozen questions about demons before I’ve finished half my plate.

I answer most of them while Sparkle sits beside me, laughing whenever his siblings interrupt each other. Someone is always touching him. A sister bumps his shoulder. Ferris leans against his arm. His mother brushes past and gives his head an absent little pat. They adore him.

His father barely speaks, which makes keeping my promise considerably easier.

Then someone knocks over a glass. Sparkle immediately pushes his chair back, but Frances is already on her feet with a towel.

“I’ve got it,” she says, waving him back down while she cleans the spill.

His mother glances at him before continuing her conversation like nothing happened. Nobody makes a big deal about it. Nobody tells Sparkle he isn’t allowed to help. His sister simply handles the problem herself.

His hand finds mine beneath the table, and I lace our fingers together.

It happens again when his mother gets up to grab something from the kitchen. Sparkle shifts forward before catching himself. A few minutes later, Ferris asks for more to drink, and one of his sisters grabs the pitcher before Sparkle can reach it.